


Best Way to Fall Asleep

by kaasknot



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Strong Language, insults as terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaasknot/pseuds/kaasknot
Summary: A two week-long campaign was easy. A two week-long campaign in torrential rain and mud--less easy, but clones were trained to withstand anything. A two week-long campaign with waterproofed commando droids heckling their perimeters, so that no one got a decent night’s rest? That was a recipe for abject misery. All Rex can say is, thank fuck for hot showers and Commander Cody.





	

Rex stood under the shower spray for three entire minutes before he could muster enough energy to pick up the soap. The water was blissfully hot, almost scalding--a luxury in space, but General Skywalker had requisitioned the resources, and every man on board had been slotted a double-length shower. Rex haphazardly soaped his chest and watched, his mind drifting, as the swirls of sweat, blood, suds, and two weeks’ worth of caked-on mud disappeared down the drain.

Normally the barracks showers aboard the _Resolute_ were a tumult of noise and laughter, a hundred brothers shoving, gossiping and shucking off the tension of battle with a mix of handjobs and horseplay. It was different, this time. They were in orbit over Pebria, a small, out-of-the-way world known for its advanced water purification technology. Rex would have thought such a banal export would have left them beneath the notice of either side of the war, but as it turned out, the Kuat Drive Yards used Pebria’s filters for their star destroyers. The same water that was pounding away the knots in Rex’s back had been reclaimed using Pebrian ingenuity.

Ending the siege should have been straightforward. It even had been, more or less; the Separatist forces hadn't been well-entrenched, or especially interested in keeping the planet. The Jedi Council had dispatched Generals Skywalker and Kenobi to deal with the situation in as swift a manner as possible. The Seppies had barely even put up a fight. But they had left a potent message nonetheless: the Grand Army of the Republic couldn't be everywhere at once, or protect every vital target.

Rex sighed and let his arms drop. A two week-long campaign was easy. A two week-long campaign in torrential rain and mud--less easy, but clones were trained to withstand anything. A two week-long campaign with waterproofed commando droids heckling their perimeters, so that no one got a decent night’s rest? That was a recipe for abject misery.

They'd trudged aboard the LAAT/is when it was done, their armor twenty kilos heavier with water and mud, and they were too exhausted even to feel victorious--just a dull sense of relief.

The water cut off. Rex sighed. The room jumped into focus; there was a line for the shower heads. Hardcase wedged his way under the spigot beside his, tapping his trooper ID into the keypad to start his ration. He looked like something a gundark had chewed up and spat back out. Rex shared a listless nod with him, then cleared the way, snagging a towel on the way out.

The armor room and bunkroom were a riot of mud. Footprints and puddles of water mixed into a runny sludge, just waiting for someone to lose their balance and slip. Rex wasn't looking forward to the incident reports he'd have to check over in the morning. He stared at his armor for all of a minute, where it hung dripping filthy water onto the floor, and decided it could wait till tomorrow, too. It might even be easier to get the mud off after it had dried. He cut through the bunkroom, exchanging nods and the occasional handclasp or hug with the brothers he passed, feeling better with each press of skin to skin. It was more crowded than usual: General Kenobi’s flagship was off in the Noad System working a blockade, so the 212th was hitching a ride, and everyone was doubling up bunks. Rex couldn't help but notice, however, that even with twice as many bodies, and despite the floors and even on occasion the walls streaked with Pebria’s black soil, the bunks themselves were pristine. No one wanted to risk dirt getting in their clean sheets.

He pushed through the crowd to the closet he called his quarters. It wasn't much to speak of, not compared to the staterooms the Jedi were issued, but he only shared with one other brother--Captain Striker, over in Viper Company--instead of the entire unit. Striker was already asleep, wrapped up with his guest from the 212th in a tangle of limbs on the top bunk. On the bottom bunk--

Rex smiled, a sappy, fond grin he wouldn't admit to even under threat of torture. Cody was sprawled out naked over the covers, his skin pink from scrubbing. As marshal commander he was entitled to a private stateroom, but because General Skywalker had a padawan, what would have been Cody’s room had been given over to General Kenobi instead. Rex couldn't find it in him to mind. Cody could still have opted for quarters in the conning towers with the rest of the senior officers, but he'd chosen to slum it with Rex down in the infantry officers’ barracks. He looked half-asleep now, blinking like a jidda bird at the hashmarks Rex had carved into the bulkhead by his bunk.

“I don't know about you, Commander, but I feel about ten kilos lighter,” Rex said, wiping off his feet and stepping over to straddle Cody’s hips.

Cody mustered a small, lopsided smirk. “Feel like I took a ride in one of the ship’s dryers.” He ran his hands up Rex’s thighs. “You took long enough.”

“There was a line.” Rex leaned forward to press his forehead against Cody’s in a kiss. No buckets between them, this time; just skin to skin. He let out a small sigh. “Thank fuck that's over.”

“Oh, I don't know, I think we could do another week. Seemed like a nice place.”

Rex stroked a hand down Cody’s side. “All due respect, sir, you're karked in the head.”

“I must be, if I'm bunking with a chakaar like you.” Cody’s hands settled over Rex’s hips like they were made for them. Rex felt himself growing hard at the memory of those hands, and the things they'd done to him. He broke the kiss to look incredulously down at his groin.

“How the _fuck_ are you still functional?” he demanded. Beneath him, in the crease where his balls met his thigh, Rex could feel Cody responding. He huffed a laugh. “Sir, our kade are making promises I don't think we can keep.”

“I'm not ‘sir’ here,” Cody said, rocking up his hips to slide his hardening cock alongside Rex’s. “I'm just Cody. Or, you know, _cyara_ \--”

“Fierfek, you're like a mutt with a bone,” Rex groaned, arching back as the sensations stole over him. He felt his breathing slip into battle cadence. Fighting and occasionally fucking, the sum of a clone’s life. He was almost too tired to keep his eyes open, but the taffy-slow tug of pleasure drew him on.

“I just want what's mine.” Cody reached up and drew Rex’s head back down, pressing their foreheads together again. “And you? You’re mine.”

Rex shuddered. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, yeah, whatever you want. I'll call you the Chancellor of the damn Republic if that's what you want.”

“Ka’rta,” Cody murmured up to him, rolling his hips against Rex’s cock.

“ _Gods_ ,” Rex choked out. “Riduur, oh god.”

“I almost didn't think you knew that one,” Cody smirked. Rex reached up and pinched a nipple.

“Ow!”

“I went through ARC training, you nerf-fucker, I know my Mandalorian.”

“You never fucking _show_ it!”

“I can show you my pauldron and kama,” Rex whispered in his ear. “Imagine me _just_ in my pauldron and kama--”

Cody seized Rex’s lower back and dragged him down until their cocks were sandwiched between their bellies. “You think I don't already?” he replied, nipping the shell of Rex’s ear. “You think I don't imagine all the ways I can fuck you, Rex?”

Rex’s cock throbbed in the space between them, Cody’s spread hand burning against his skin. “Kriffing hell,” he gasped, his lungs too short of air to quite manage. He shifted his weight over Cody’s legs, settling into a better position, a better angle, bracing himself above his commander so they could move together _properly_. His arms shook like reeds in the wind.

“Maybe all that can wait for later,” Cody said, running his hand up Rex’s tricep. “Don't want to wear you out.”

“Fuck you, you're just as wiped as I am.”

“Didn't they tell you? They bred exhaustion out of me, my brother. I can go for days.”

Rex flexed his hips, the friction of his cock against Cody’s raising a sheen of sweat over his skin. “It's _been_ days.”

“So long as it's more days than you, that's all that matters.”

Rex could barely see through the tears of exhaustion that rose to salve his gritty eyes, but he didn't need to see to do this right. He found the groove in Cody’s abs that took his cock so sweetly and set to it with a will, grinding his pubic bone down over Cody’s shaft with every pass. His forehead dropped back to Cody’s--less a kiss and more a way to prop himself up; Cody was whispering up at him, but the words didn't make sense, passing in one ear and out the other. Someone was making hurt, aching sounds; Rex thought it might be him.

“Would you fucking stow it, you goddamn kad-hungry di’kute!” A balled-up sock came down from the upper bunk, nailing Cody right in the side of his face. They both jumped, and Rex burst out laughing.

“I said shut the karking fuck up!”

“Sorry, Striker,” Rex forced out. “Don't think we’ll be much longer.”

“Better not. Di’kut.”

Cody looked up at the underside of the bunk above them. “Tomorrow’s gonna be an interesting morning.”

“Do you think he knows who you are?”

“Probably not. They were sacked out when I got in.”

A snore from above punctuated this, and Rex started giggling like a fourth-year cadet who’d just discovered dirty jokes. “Oh fuck, _fuck_ , Cody, he's gonna be so screwed tomorrow, just picture his face when he wakes up and finds out the di’kut he kad-kicked with a roll of dirty socks was the Marshal Commander of the 212th!” He sagged against the wall with a helpless sob of laughter. “Fuck, I need to sleep!”

“Let's get you to sleep, then,” Cody said, reaching down for Rex’s cock. “Look at that, my brother, you're almost ready to go.”

“Don't even tell me you're not as shit-brained as I am,” Rex said. “I can't believe I actually got it up. Either of us.”

“Fine,” Cody said, settling Rex against him once more. “I’m as shit-brained as you are. I’m so shit-brained that if my hips didn't know what to do on their own, this probably wouldn't be happening. I’m so fucking shit-brained, Rex, that I’m rubbing off against you when I could be asleep right now, that's how shit-brain tired I am.”

“That's the sweetest thing any--anyone has--oh fuck, cyara--” Rex cut off as his orgasm spilled through him. It was far from the most intense he'd ever had, but he was warm, and full, and clean, and he was in Cody’s arms, and the release of tension burst in a rush of heat and aftershocks. Dimly, he felt Cody’s cock pulsing beside his.

“Why the goddamn fuck do I have to drag you through two weeks of hell and a crappy orgasm to get you to call me ‘sweetheart’?” Cody’s voice was gentle in Rex’s ear.

“Didn’t call you sweetheart, called you cyara,” Rex slurred, the rush of hormones sucking him under faster than a quicksand sink. He sagged to the mattress between Cody and the bulkhead. “S’different.”

“You _are_ a di’kut, my brother.”

“Loud’n proud.”

The last thing he remembered, before sleep rose up and dragged him down, was Cody pulling the blankets over them both and whispering in his ear, “I’ll wake you up in time to see Striker’s face, cyar’ika.”

***

END

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the [fantastic (nsfw) art](http://sweetfinjadrawings.tumblr.com/post/151570524253/have-some-cocks-i-wanted-some-smut-today-with) of sweetfinjadrawings. Go forth and praise them with great praise!
> 
> "Cyara" and "sweetheart" mean the same thing; Rex is being a butthead.
> 
> "Kad" means "saber/sword" in Mando'a. Since Karen Traviss gave us a word for balls but not for dick, I had to improvise :P
> 
> Beta'd by cyanwars, bc she's a filthy enabler and deserves to pay for her crimes.
> 
> I FORGOT TO ADD: come hang out with us on Star Wars chat ([here](http://zorekryk.tumblr.com/post/151027254966/star-wars-chat))!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Best Way to Fall Asleep [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416626) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




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